Trouble on the Homefront
by Shelby Chace
Summary: Castiel is called back to vault 101 by Amata, but he wasn't expecting what's about to unfold.


Trouble on the Homefront

The world had been dyed a potent shade of teal, the glass of the goggles bent and scuffed. They achieved their oblivious purpose, frankly enough, but seemed to paint the land more vividly, alive. He liked to imagine it was this way, but when seeing freely, the wastes appeared just as they had every sun-scorched day. Trunks of trees had lost their luster, bark charcoal-black and falling to the touch. Grass was a faint recollection; sand of the ashes coated every region from where the eye could see. The skies even bled with memories and fragments of the blast that had touched down years ago.

America was now a no man's land, broken and nearly uninhabitable. A wanderer strode amongst the remnants of motor vehicles and forgotten interstates. Brittle sand flicked up with his large strides, his mind persistently attacked by figments of wants and needs. He absentmindedly adjusted the double-barreled shotgun at his rear, sweat falling from his tanned skin.

The sun cooked the land to such a degree that armor had taken on a new purpose. The wastelander, with dark hair wild in the harsh breeze, replayed the relayed message over again in his brain and nearly forced himself to quicken pace. The tiring walk through shifting sand bit at his legs as he hopped easily over a boulder. The destination was within sight. The large vault door built sturdily into the mountainside never seemed so unforgiving. He was going back for her; otherwise nothing more could push him back home.

Castiel punched in the newly changed code and the metal shifted. _AMATA._ Soon his ears were practically bleeding as a screech of steel upon steel cried out to the dead, the spherical entrance rolling away. He removed the goggles from his eyes, wincing to the sudden harsh artificial light, and rubbed them with a gloved hand. He then forced himself to take hold of the horizontal knob to the inner door, shivering to the touch. This second entry also screamed when opened. A blast of cold stagnant air rushed over him as he closed the door after himself. There was a sudden sound of plastic hitting the metallic floor as he whirled around to aim his firearm straight between the eyes of a bewildered guard; the fallen police baton rolled and tapped against his boot. This was done by pure habit, an instinct that had forced itself upon him by a world of leaderless ciaos.

Castiel lifted his head and lowered the weapon as the man's thin lips parted. "You… I don't know how you got in here but you can't be here…" he stuttered, frightened, but then seemed to freeze with a sudden realization, "Castiel?"

The wanderer nodded absently, placing the gun back into the sling attached to his back. Officer Gomez hadn't changed, his pistol lowering as well.

"Yeah, it's me." He replied, voice vaguely stressed.

"Damn," the officer exclaimed, studying the younger man from head to foot, "I hardly recognized you with all that grime and shit on ya from out there." He said, gazing up at the wastelander with head tilted back, then mumbled, "You got tall, kid…"

Cas grinned slightly, soberly pleased that an old friend had remembered and treated him as it once was. "I've come for Amata. I got a message, is she alright?" he began but Gomez cut him off.

"I wouldn't know anything about any message and I wouldn't go around talking about it… especially down here." The older man spoke with shifting eyes, voice lowered.

"What's happened?" Castiel almost barked, but lowered his deep voice into a raspy whisper. However, in the back of his mind that question was already answered.

"Things went to hell after you and your father left." He replied then leaned in closer, "Others wanted to leave too, but the Overseer wouldn't allow it, he's crackin' down. Now, since you left, guards have been real riled up. Rebels sprang up too. Think they got some brilliant plan to rise up against the Overseer, but the guards are planning to raid them and Amata." he licked his lips with an escalating blood pressure as Cas studied him closely.

Officer Gomez rushed to continue. "People got hurt… damn still people are getting hurt! Even my Freddie is part of that damn gang now! You should leave, Cas, they'll shoot at ya on sight, you're just lucky I was good friends with your old man… and out of respect for him I'll just turn the other way and say I never saw ya."

"I'll take my chances," the wanderer responded roughly, "Besides, bastards topside haven't killed me yet." An old signature smirk became evident after that, the right side of his mouth curling.

Gomez chuckled and shook his head, examining the healing gash over his right eye. "I'm guessing from your experience out there grew you some balls," he grinned, "You probably got more _experience_ than most everyone down here combined…"

"Maybe…" Castiel uttered a snicker and shifted in his stance. "How is Freddie?"

"Not sure really… we haven't been speaking. He hasn't even spoken to Pepper in months." Gomez admitted with a saddened sigh.

Freddie Gomez had been Cas' close friend, a good buddy. He always wanted to join Butch's little shit gang and was secretly enraged when Butch had recruited Castiel first after a good little brawl against one another. Cas had declined, but Freddie slightly resented him for it.

Cas had always stood up for himself and Freddie had sulked in his shadow, but Cas never once belittled or teased him about it. He knew Freddie looked up to him and would turn to him for advice any time. They had all been close childhood friends, the three of them, Cas, Amata, and good old Freddie with his little sister, Pepper, constantly wanting to catch up with them. Castiel wished he could go back to those days when things were simpler. When he hadn't grown up too soon and hardened too quickly. However, he knew that life could never go back to the way it was or to the person he had been.

"I'm sorry, Gomez, I really am." Cas said, feeling guilty for both his father's actions and his own, though there was nothing he could have done.

The older man smiled warmly at him. "Listen, kid, go to the medical wing, I'm sure she's waiting for ya down there." He said, tilting his helmeted head to the side.

Cas nodded with gratitude and strode on past the officer.

"Be careful, kid." Gomez warned as Cas wondered where Freddie stood in all this.

The dim cold corridors were precisely the way he remembered, blue lights whining. The wastelander ran a hand though his chocolate-brown hair then sauntered down one hallway after the next identical one. His heart secretly thundered in his chest. A quaint homecoming was never on the To Do list. Coming to the lobby entrance he heard his name being called as he froze.

"Cas?" an excited male voice exclaimed from down the hall just as he passed that archway.

With a furrowed brow Cas retraced his steps in a quick backward motion. A man his age was standing erect in the center of the hall, pocketknife in hand. He recognized the Tunnel Snakes jacket, the greased back hairstyle similar to his own.

"No way!" he cried as they met, the taller of the two frowning. "Shit, I never thought I'd see you again!" he scoffed and studied him with a low profile sneer of jealousy. "Ha! Goody two-shoes himself!"

Cas narrowed his bright blue eyes at this childhood bully. They could have been brothers. With similar features and coloring both very easily could be mistaken as family. Both young men were attractive with almost parallel mannerisms and certain egotistical tendencies, which probably was one of the reasons why they had butted heads in the past. Butch had a smaller build, however, but he still was lean and athletic like Castiel, despite the fact that he was more of an arrogant, cowardly, wise-ass than Cas ever was or could be.

Butch snapped the pocketknife back and placed it in his jacket pocket, still inspecting the wastelander like some foreign painting. He wore a black tee-shirt beneath a worn chestnut-brown leather jacket, which was dusted with dirt and torn in places from bullet wounds. The leather made his shoulders seem all the more broad. A pair of green battered goggles hung loose at his neck, torn fingerless gloves covered his bandaged hands, and scuffed knee high black harness boots held up well enough at his feet over beige jeans. He bore cuts and small healing wounds with traces of dirt over his tanned skin. His hair had been lightened by the sun and thrown a bit wild by the wind, hints of dried blood stuck to his clothing made Butch cringe slightly. Moreover, he was looking weathered and a bit pissed, maybe a little stoned.

The vault dweller opened his mouth to comment, but then snapped it shut when thinking questionably, the wastelander's sketchy complexion menacing suddenly. Butch knew well then that he truly towered over him and that was intimidating; he had changed.

"I guess I thought you'd be dead, ya know from going up there anyway," he marveled, pompous tone lowered, as Cas grew vexed.

"Whatever, Butch…" he growled and spun on his heels. "I didn't come here to chew the fat with you…" he retorted over his shoulder while walking away.

"Wait!" the other caught his arm and hardened his face. "Look, things are shit here and the goddamn Overseer won't let us leave." Butch glanced over Castiel's shoulder. "I mean, it must not be _that_ bad up there if _you're_ not dead yet." He motioned with a hand. "I'm gonna to break out soon, man, and then start my own gang out there in the Wastes! It'll be the most coolest badassest fuckin' gang ever…"

Cas rolled his eyes and ran his tongue over his teeth. "Sure, Butch, good luck finding some douchebags stupid enough to join your little lollipop guild."

Butch snorted a false laugh, but failed at hiding his embarrassment. "Well, you'll see… But if you talk the Overseer into it I'm sure he'd let us outta the vault."

Cas raised an eyebrow as Butch cleared his throat. "That's what you're here for right? You're here for Amata anyway right?"

The wastelander scoffed and partially lied. "Not exactly."

Butch opened his mouth again to object, but another voice interrupted them. "Hey! How'd you get in here?" an older man bellowed, pistol raised, as his hunched form came wandering down the corridor.

Butch widened his blue eyes then slapped Cas on the shoulder. "Good job, genius..."

Castiel focused his attention on the old timer, shoulders shifting as he squinted down the corridor. The silhouette of the officer was cleanly cut against the white of the lobby, blue apparel matching the flickering rectangular lights above. "I'm not here to hurt anyone, I'm just here for a friend."

"Yeah right, look boy, we don't allow outsiders down here and the Overseer don't like your type." He growled and cocked back the weapon. "Go back the way you came, I'm not fuckin' around."

"Neither am I." Cas mumbled, staring blankly at the man that clearly did not remember him or didn't care.

"I said, get the fuck back to where you came from, asshole!" the old man growled, the safety switch on the weapon releasing.

Castiel spread his hands. "You don't have to go callin' names, officer." He replied with a smirk and took a few steps forward, "Do you treat all your guests like this?"

The older man's eyes narrowed into black slits, pistol never budging from eye level. Castiel's arms fell when he saw the man take a step back and squeeze his old eyes shut. With the trigger gripped a shot was fired and within that second a paradox exploded with a loud burst. Castiel's right arm jolted and the old man fell straight back, a large cluster of blood blackening his blue armor. The wastelander simply stood there for a moment then placed his .50-caliber shotgun back into its worn holster as if it had never killed the old man, the double barrels leaking white smoke.

He glanced back to Butch as the vault dweller's eyes widened more so, his mouth opened. He seemed overly shocked, feeling nauseous as blood began to seep down the hall. "You just… you just…" he stuttered, wild eyes shifting back between the fresh corpse and the man who had absentmindedly implanted a round of shotgun pellets into the officer's chest. "Fuck, man…"

Cas raised an eyebrow quickly. "Still wanna go topside, kiddo?" he comically inquired then turned on him and swaggered down the corridor, the rhetorical question posing a concealed danger in the air.

Stepping over the corpse, the wastelander entered the vacant lobby half-mindedly and took the first left. He remembered when killing was a sin and with his first murder he felt as if he had lost a piece of himself right in these steel halls. Now killing was an overlooked way of survival, not living, he wasn't living anymore. Cas felt as if he were a walking corpse, decaying and losing bits of himself every day and night, waiting for and longing for nothing. He had died months earlier, a lifetime ago.

Castiel strode on past closed window curtains and locked doors. The hall was empty except for some pieces of junk and thrown debris. Passing his old apartment where he and his father used to live, Cas pulled nervously at the silver earring in his left ear, eyes quickly tarring away from distant blissful memories.

As the clinic inched nearer he could hear muffled voices on the other side of the wall. Without hesitating he rounded the corner and entered the room. The clinic was not the way he remembered. Medical beds, empty charts, and supplies were flung about like a bunch of feral ghouls had rummaged through. The lighting was dark and oddly eerie.

The outsider's gaze shifted from the shaking teenager in the corner to the broken robot then to the group of three conversing in secret near the entrance to the disorderly operating room. One male and one of the two females around his age froze wide-eyed when he entered. The second woman had her back to him, her speech cut off by their frightened expressions.

"Guys, what?" she asked, voice risen with annoyance as she spun around to face the center of the sudden focus.

She pivoted so quickly she nearly smacked right into him. A loud gasp escaped her as her hands instantly flew up to her mouth, bronzed eyes widening. "Castiel?" she uttered after a long moment of simply staring at the man as if he were a ghost.

"Hey." He replied gently as that grin tugged at the corner of his mouth again.

Amata swallowed and allowed her hands to fall from her pretty face, stunned. She seemed they way he remembered, dark burgundy hair done up neatly with large bright brown eyes. She was thin and attractive in the blue vault 101 attire. Amata nearly appeared as if she were to cry then surprised him and flung her arms up and around his neck.

"Cas, I … I can't believe it's you." She mumbled into his ear, her cheek pressed to his as he returned the embrace.

"Of course it's me." He replied with a short laugh, large arms wrapping around her small frame.

Amata pulled away slightly and felt the fabric of the jacket between her fingertips, her one fist clutching the cool, smooth material rather tightly at his chest as if he'd escape. She was suddenly frightened that somehow he'd vanish before her eyes if she did not keep such close contact. Her spinning mind was still locked to his very different appearance and altered demeanor. His eyes were the same however, in a way, the light piercing irises still sparkling when in her presence. Studying his face, Amata recognized signs of pain. It was not physical pain, but emotional angst; in that moment she wanted to kiss him suddenly and simply melt into him. Instead she fully parted from him and off her tiptoes.

"I mean I didn't think… I thought…" she took in a breath and attempted to calm herself as he simply glanced over at the other two. They still stared at him as if he were a psycho killer from one of those old horror films. He couldn't remember their names exactly; maybe the girl was Judy or something.

"I mean I can't believe you actually came." She finally spit out and his sapphire gaze fell back to her again.

"Yeah, I got your message and I came as fast as I could," he replied, "Amata you should come with me."

"No, no!" she responded quite quickly as he chomped on the inside of his cheek, that was the same crap she said the first time. "I called you here for your help."

"You shouldn't be here." Mumbled the curly haired chick and Cas glared over at her, perhaps a bit too over exaggerated for her benefit, he remembered how hated her now.

Christine's a bitch, Amata used to say over and over again in spite of her and Castiel's brief interest in her. Suzie was another one of the girls in the vault that had a crush on Cas years back and Amata hated that. Even Freddie's little sister was all gaga for him. Amata had admitted that she was a jealous girlfriend, but whenever another girl stole his attention for even the tiniest moment, Amata would flip. Castiel now remembered when his was sixteen and had asked 'Mean Christine' on a date and her reply was…

"Guys, will you give us a few minutes." Amata said back to them, snapping Castiel out of his previous thoughts.

They both scoffed and left to somewhere down the hall. Fuckers. "Help?" he snickered, "Why would any of these jerks want my help?"

She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes like a wife to a procrastinating husband. "You're the only one who can." She retorted back at him then proceeded to bring him up to speed on the whole ordeal he thought he was rid of. "The night you and your father left … it's like everyone went crazy. Some wanted to go out into the wastes and others just seemed to turn on each other."

"Huh, well that was bound to happen eventually." He muttered under his breath, but she just disregarded his sardonic inputs with an eye roll.

"The Overseer, he ordered the guards to shoot anyone who was trying to leave and … so many people died that night."

Cas thought about this for a moment. "I'm sorry Amata, my dad would be shocked to hear that… if he were still alive."

She pursed her lips and gazed up to her once best friend and at one time, boyfriend or whatever. Back then the only thing on her mind was trying to keep her father from finding her with him, but now reality had kicked in.

"I'm sorry, Cas…"

"It's alright," he cut her off sharply, deciding that he really didn't want to talk about it. "I heard about the rebels or something like that from Butch." He lied.

Amata studied his features for a moment then chose not to ask by the tone in his voice, his eyes sobering. "Yes, now people want to leave the vault but I found out something, something that the Overseer was hiding from us this entire time!"

"What, his secret stash of crazy pills?" Cas giggled to himself as she really did ignore him this time and without even thinking.

"I found out that the vault wasn't always closed!" she explained as he furrowed his brow. "People could come and go before, but my father … after you and your dad came my father decided to close it forever when we were babies and so we'd never know!"

"I guess that went to shit."

Amata uttered a laugh and nodded this time. "But now my father is drunk with power and he's hurting us even when he thinks he's doing good." She took in a breath and truly looked to him, noticing every hint of torment, disbelief, and loss of faith in his steel blue eyes. Her gaze also fell upon his left arm, white gauze was visible slightly beneath his coat sleeve. She wondered momentarily why that was there, but decided not to put too much thought into it. In the back of her mind she really didn't want to know what he had gotten into out in the Wastes.

"I called you here in hope that maybe you can stop him… maybe you can talk to him, I mean with what you've seen out there and with first hand experience …" she paused and touched his arm. "I need you, Cas."

The wastelander studied her features, her flushed cheeks and large hopeful eyes. "What if he won't listen?" he asked, almost rephrasing that with 'He won't fuckin' listen dumb ass.'

"Please you have to try, he won't listen to me!" she explained and rubbed her arm with her opposite, which was many of her nervous signs. "Please? You wouldn't have come back if …"

Castiel bit on his lower lip and shifted in his stance, the strange teenager still in the corner making him jump for a second. Creep. "Alright, Amata, I'll talk to your father."

A sudden large pretty smile graced her lips. "Thank you." She replied and almost jumped to hug him again, but something dark entered her mind. "But, Cas, whatever you do, please promise you won't hurt him."

The sudden painful memory of shots being fired at him when he ran for his life to escape the vault entered his brain. He lowered his gaze and began to turn. "I can't promise you anything."

"Cas!" she caught his arm, nails scratching against the leather. "Even after all that's happened, he's still my father, please…"

He simply looked to her over his shoulder with a hidden expression, face vacant of care, and departed without another word. Amata watched him go as her face hardened with sad disbelief.

"What's happened to you?" she asked in more of a whisper to herself as he froze momentarily with his back to her.

Even if he tried, he couldn't answer that question. Not truthfully. The wastes truly had taken a toll on him in more ways than one, but he'd never let her or any other know that.

Dodging a few scrapes in the halls, the wastelander decided it was quite easy to sneak past these idiots or perhaps he had learned too much out there in the wastes for his own good. He was suddenly grateful that he had told Charon to stay back in Megaton until he had sorted everything out. Bringing a ghoul into the vault was like bringing an armed mininuke into a raider fort and calling it a gift of good intentions. Yeah, they wouldn't like it so much.

Besides, Charon would probably prefer to mow down anyone who looked at him funny and taking the Overseer out back for a good old fashioned ass whooping. Castiel laughed to himself while entering the Overseer's office with that thought.

The office was almost the way he remembered. Some loose papers had been knocked off the counter and drawers in desks were hung open like someone had searched the place. However, the room still was excessively clean and vacant. White lights stapled into the steel ceiling lit the office almost too well. Cas ran his fingertips over the terminal's keyboard with a pit in his stomach.

He distinctly recalled breaking into the room and hacking the computer frantically as all hell broke out in the halls below. As he stood there now he could still hear the frenzied shouts and blasts from the guards' weapons. That night he didn't think he'd actually make it out alive or in one piece. Yet, when Amata met him at the vault's entrance, shocked that her plan in fact had worked, stray bullets only had grazed him. With her final goodbye he thought he'd never see this place again, but now he was standing like a statue in the damn Overseer's office as if he had been called down for some childish wrongdoing.

"What are you doing in here!" a male voice startled him as he turned around, thoughts broken. "I could have you shot down right there where you stand."

Castiel spread his hands with a low profile smirk. "You could, but I highly doubt you will because your 9 millimeter is, well out of reach." He replied, holding up the man's gun in his grasp.

The old bastard watched the wanderer place the weapon atop the desk with narrowed black eyes. He had aged with grayed hair and multiple stress wrinkles. However, even though Cas thought he was a century's old douschebag, he still cared for Amata and planned not to harm her father.

"I'm not here to hurt anyone," Cas continued as the man eyed him like a stain on his new white shirt, "Amata contacted me, I'm only here to talk."

"What makes you think I would ever want to converse with you?" the Overseer spat, "A filthy uncouth scavenger."

Again with the names, Cas gritted his teeth together and ran a hand through his hair with an irritated sigh. "Look, I'm doing this for your daughter, you can call me names all you like, just hear me out."

The Overseer inched further into the room and crossed his arms, now grinning evilly at the younger man with a short laugh. "So, you thought you could just come back and slink in like a teen missing curfew?" he retorted and glared down his nose at him. "Done with the dust and ruins of the Wasteland, are you? Given up looking for daddy?"

Castiel now held a sneer toward the man, blue eyes growing very cold, yet allowing him to continue with bawled fists. "Well, that's too bad because you have no future in this vault. You're tainted."

Tainted? Cas cocked an eyebrow and strode out from behind the command desk with a scoff. "With your leadership, none of these poor bastards have much of a future."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand." The older man replied with a clear cruelness in his voice. "You were never really one of us, anyway. Your father was from the Wastes, and that's where you belong."

Coming closer to him, the wastelander shot him a malicious glare then pushed the sides of his jacket back to rest his hands on his hips, properly allowing his weapons to be viewed. The Overseer swallowed and stared timidly. The wastelander had two 10milimeter pistols rested on sides, held there by a tan leather shoulder holster strapped to him beneath the coat. A long hunting knife was attached to his metal belt on his left hip with few M67grenades at his other hip. A .357magnum revolver hung on his right thigh in a black pistol holster. Minus the double barrel shotgun and the hunting rifle overlapping at his back like an X, the Overseer didn't want to think about what else he had concealed on him.

"Watch what you say, old man." He replied as the Overseer straightened with anxiousness leaking from his eyes. "I believe I have the solution to the vaults problems."

The man scoffed and shifted where he stood, almost backing up against the wall. "To fix what you started?" he snapped, "Go ahead, humor me."

Castiel ran his tongue over his top teeth. "The rebels are right, you need to open the vault."

"Oh do you?" he mocked, "What makes you think you know better to protect this vault?"

I really don't, Cas thought irritably then realized he had to reply or the bastard would start spewing insults at him. "You can't even keep your security in line. They're planning to raid the rebels." He blurted with a mental shrug to what he just said.

"Damn it!" the Overseer took the bait, "I told them I won't let this degenerate into violence again! The vault simply cannot take the instability anymore!" he exclaimed, striding past him and leaning his palms upon the counter top as Cas touched the outer edge of the magnum holster. "But maybe you're right… they simply can't stand the pressure anymore, and now the purity and perfection of my vault is crumbling all around me."

If he said the word 'simply' one more time, Cas was about to chuck a paperweight at his head.

"Humanity isn't about pure genetics, it's about never giving up hope, even now." Castiel replied, suddenly shocked that the sentence had just left his lips, it was as if someone else had said it for him.

Amata's father turned and truly looked at him, a man a few decades his junior, but with James' voice. "I suppose allowing them outside the vault would keep them alive, and we could still keep the vault our safe haven. But it would require a new a new type of leader." He hinted and raised his head.

Cas cautiously cocked an eyebrow as the man took a few steps closer to him. Staring he studied the younger man then finally continued speaking. "I will inform my daughter that she will be the new Overseer immediately." Cas let his tensed shoulders fall with relief; the last thing he wanted was to become some insane leader hyped up on crazy pills and ordering assholes around.

"Besides," the man broke into his thoughts as Cas looked to him, "She had the courage and intellect to ask for _your_ aid… not something that I would have done however." He said motioning to him like a piece of shit stuck to the floor. Dick.

Before heading back down to see Amata, Castiel made his way to the Gomez apartment. He hoped to see Freddie, but the knots in his stomach told him to go back. He rounded a corner and froze. Cas could hear an argument in the apartment, a man and a woman bickering angrily at each other. He squeezed his eyes shut and stood there for a moment. What if he hates me too? Fuck it… Cas took in a breath then appeared in the doorway.

The young woman, of about sixteen or so saw him first. She widened her brown eyes and uttered a quick terrorized scream. The guy spun around fast with a grunt, the Tunnel Snakes jacket fluorescent under the lights. He had a pocket knife out and lunged forward toward the mistaken attacker.

Freddie was fast, but Castiel was stronger and quicker. He caught Freddie's wrist, twisted it, stole the weapon with his other hand, and spun him around roughly. Freddie's back hit the guy's chest hard and he immediately felt the cold sharpness of the knife at his throat, he was stunned. Pepper watched as it happened so fast, she screamed and backed up into the wall.

"Don't, you'll kill him!" she cried.

"You shouldn't attack someone without thinking first." Cas said into his ear while looking at his little sister. "Especially with your eyes closed."

"Let me go." Freddie growled and Cas pushed him away.

He was breathing heavily as he now looked to his once best friend and watched him close the knife and toss it on the bed. "Cas?"

"That's not Cas, retard!" Pepper screeched at her brother. "Castiel's dead!"

"Is that what they said?" Cas inquired then smirked at Freddie.

Freddie stared at him for a second longer then a smile spread across his face. He came right up to him and threw his arm up over his shoulder and hugged him. "Holy shit man!" Freddie cried then took a step away, "I can't believe you're alive!"

Cas clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course, I'm alive. Who told you guys I was dead?" he asked calmly and looked to Freddie then to Pepper.

"Well, we just figured you'd be, ya know… but shit, man, I really missed you. We all did, Amata and me, I even caught her watching that video recording we took for your eighteenth birthday."

Cas laughed, remembering how drunk they got. He even remembered standing on top of the counter in the cafeteria attempting to dance like Elvis with a shot of whiskey in his hand.

"Freddie!" Pepper snapped and stomped over between them, "He tried to kill you!"

"Pepper…" Freddie tried to stop her.

"No! It's his fault," she screamed and pivoted toward Cas and pointed at him, "It's all your fault! Can't you just leave us alone?" she glared at him as her pretty brown eyes stared to become glassy. She was a short cute little thing with a soft face, long golden brown hair, and olive skin.

"Pepper, stop it!" Freddie retorted and pulled at her arm.

"Get out of here! You don't belong here anymore!" She cried and attempted to swat at him, but Freddie yanked her back. "You and your father killed those people!"

Cas had this grimace on his face, Freddie could now see the hurt and anger that started to bleed through. Cas suddenly became a stranger to him, he appeared older now, cruel. It was in the way his face contorted, they way his eyes got dark; he almost looked like he was going to harm her. He snapped and jolted forward. "My father didn't kill anyone!" he screamed at her, voice deep and sharp.

"Yes he did!" she screamed back as Freddie tried to pull her away from him, his arms around her. "You both did!"

"What the fuck do you know? My father was a goddamn hero, you stupid little cunt!" he shouted and Pepper froze.

"Cas…" Freddie stared at him in disbelief, his brow lowered.

Castiel realized what he said and took a step back, breathing heavily. It felt as if he hadn't said it, like something else deep inside screamed at the girl. He knew her once; she was sweet and innocent, like his own little sister. He thought he knew himself, he would never say that to a woman… or so he thought.

"I'm sorry, I…"

"Get out of here," Freddie said to him coldly as Pepper sobbed in his arms, "Get out of here, Cas."

Freddie saw his friend's face fall, the sadness in his features as he stared at him with a frown. "Fuck you too then…" he whispered, more to himself than Freddie and spun on his heels and disappeared down the hall.

By the time Cas got back down to the medical wing again news had already broken out. He guessed Butch would be happy, but he still wondered how long it would take before a raider would get fed up with his bullshit and blow his head off.

Entering the clinic, the wastelander was thankful those two bitches were absent this time around. The pit in his stomach had become unbearable; he hoped that Amata could, in some way, comfort him. There she stood, biting her fingernails and seeming all the more anxious.

"I … I just heard," she began once he was in speaking distance, "My father is stepping down as Overseer. He won't tell me why, but I assume it's something you said to him."

Damn straight. Cas thought then replied as their eyes met. "I had a little talk with him and explained some things. All quite civil." He said, but added in the last statement for her benefit and hoped her father wouldn't tell her about the weapons show or the implied threat.

Amata laughed. "You and him? Civil?" she exclaimed and bugged her eyes, "I expected you to change out in the Wastes, but not _that_ much." She joked and slapped his arm playfully.

Cas grinned a false smirk through the side of his mouth to hide his misery as she strode past him slightly, her voice sobering once again. "But I guess we'll all be learning a bit about the outside now, huh?"

"Guess so." He replied lightly and turned in her direction, but she still had her back to him.

"I plan on opening the vault for good…" she said and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "But there's still something that has to change."

"What is it?" he asked, curious and mentally cringing at the same time.

She finally turned to face him, biting on her lower lip. "Things are changing and… well as Overseer I have to choose what's best for the vault…"

"What are you talkin' about?" he asked lightly with that signature smirk still stuck on his handsome face. He was a good actor when he tried.

Amata took in a breath. "You're a hero, you really are, but… I … I have to ask you to leave." Castiel furrowed his brow and she could see the intense hurt in his eyes. "Some people still find you responsible for what happened that night and… this situation is too delicate for you to stay." She said cleanly, studying his features for forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Cas, you have to leave."

He pressed his lips together and broke eye contact with her, his stance shifting. "It's alright, I get it."

Guilt hit her in the gut as he began to saunter away. She had known him all her life and now she was pushing him away. He had always been there, her childhood sweetheart, her best friend. She knew he was dangerous to the ordeal, but she still cared about him.

She felt a tightness clime up her throat and she had to do something. "Cas!" she called and he looked back.

She only needed to call once and he came to her. Surprising her, he locked his lips to hers as a final farewell, his one hand pressed to the steel. Roughly forcing her up against the wall like it once was, he took hold of her and she returned this embrace. Amata brought her right leg up and wrapped it around his left. She ached for him, missed him. He leaned into her, his chest hard against her breasts. Heat erupted in her core. As his tongue swept into her mouth, she moaned into him and was overcome by his strength. She melted into him, his body molding into hers. He always was a good kisser, she knew. Her hands went to his face and she enjoyed feeling his jaw move beneath her fingertips, warm lips connected vigorously.

"_Cas…_"

Amata felt her body pulse with excited tingling sensations, longing, as his lips inched along her jaw then to her neck. She moaned with a quickly escaping breath and tangled her fingers in his soft dark hair. She could feel him tense his body, her hands at his shoulders, over his chest, clawing at his back. He reacted to her touch, still attacking her with frantic kissing. Castiel hit his fist against the wall then took her face in his hands in rage, lust, and misery. He finally parted roughly from her, his first love, his childhood sweetheart, and his best friend. Cas pushed himself away from her with a groan.

As soon as it occurred it ended, passion exploding in their broken link. His soft mouth left hers and she was stuck there breathless and regretting everything. It was a tease, vengeance. He did it purposely then turned on her and left, trench coat tails the last piece of him her eyes caught leaving the archway. Forever.


End file.
